


Dawn Gracing the Heart's Horizon

by KaiBlueOtaku



Series: Resolution!'verse [8]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Anniversary, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiBlueOtaku/pseuds/KaiBlueOtaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The arrival of a darkly significant anniversary causes Ulquiorra to retreat deeply inside of himself, but Orihime always knows just how to bring him back with a sweet, innocent wisdom beyond her years.  Tonight, they are about to discover something very special together.  A/U, Lime, maybe Lemon if I continue beyond a One-Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dawn Gracing the Heart's Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Bleach and all its characters are owned by the talented Tite Kubo. I own only my story, and am merely borrowing his characters to tell it. I receive no payment for my writing.
> 
> A/N: This story occurs in the slight A/U timeline of my personal story arc, here is the order:
> 
> Resolution  
> Urahara’s Arrancar Rehabilitation Center  
> Pina Colada Espada (optional for this story line)  
> Dawn Gracing the Heart’s Horizon
> 
> This is something of a side-plot; not an integral part of the main arc exactly, as it only focuses on one night between Ulquiorra and Orihime, and doesn’t deeply affect any other characters directly. As you will see though, these two will themselves be very deeply affected by the events about to unfold here.
> 
> As anyone who writes knows, sometimes the characters (who are people in their own respect, and have their pre-existing personalities and opinions) get their own ideas of “how things are going to go,” and this was one of those cases. This story was started without a title, and with the intention for it to be a one-shot Lemon/PWP. Please do know, that I use the term “PWP” in the loosest sense of the term, because I don’t believe in writing entirely plotless smut that jumps straight into sweaty moaning. However, I do at times just want to write a Lemon between two characters, and will construct a plausible enough story to carry that Lemon. There must be a deep emotional connection though, for me, not just mindless fornication. So, that was how this story began. Its working title was “UlquiHime Lemon/PWP One-Shot.”
> 
> Sometimes, I can’t find the title of a story until it’s closer to finished. I still didn’t know the title for Resolution until I was getting ready to post it, after 3 months of writing it, and I was doing my Author Notes when it came to me. Sometimes, I have to see the finished shape of something more clearly before the title comes into focus, and that was the case of this. I was stuck for a long time on this story. I had reached a point where Ulquiorra was just… GONE. He was so upset, and had retreated so far inside of himself, that I couldn’t find him. I even sent Orihime after him, and I knew it was bad when even SHE couldn’t bring him back for me. I had pretty much given up on it, and it just sat quietly waiting between closed covers for a long time.
> 
> When I went back recently and started re-reading it, I’d just been through some major upsets in my own life, and was in a very dark place. Through that, I was able to bring Ulquiorra back from where he had gone, because I was in that place myself (or somewhere in the neighborhood anyway), so finding my own way back from there, I was able to lead him back as well.
> 
> I may extend this to a multi-chapter piece later on, no promises at this time. I do love to write for this pairing, UlquiHime and HalliGrimm are probably my top two OTP’s at this time, so I could always revisit this and add more little “moments of heart” between them (and maybe a Lemon or two;-)…
> 
> If you enjoy the story, I would appreciate it greatly if you could leave me a quality review in exchange for my efforts. They mean the world to me, and they do help encourage me when my inspiration is flagging at times. I offer my deepest thanks here to Angelus Erreare, for the two kind reviews this morning that provided that final push of encouragement which allowed me to finish this piece.
> 
> Please, enjoy.

                As Ulquiorra’s jade-colored eyes adjusted to the dim shadows of the living room, his mind swirled to make sense of what he saw before him. 

                He had just arrived home from work at the Urahara Shoten, where the generous shopkeeper Kisuke Urahara had kept him under paid employment these past several months.  Today had seemed an especially long day; each time he thought he was almost done, Urahara had come up with another ‘urgent’ task for him to perform.  No matter how quickly or effectively he completed his work, Ulquiorra had felt he would never get out of there.

                Today, of all days, he wanted nothing more than to be at home with the Onna.

                He wasn’t sure if she recalled the date, but he was not about to bring up to her painful memories of the past.  It had been one year ago to the day that his life had changed forever, in ways he could never have imagined when Aizen had commanded the then-Fourth Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer, to abduct Orihime Inoue from the World of the Living.

                It was not a proud moment for him to think back on, and he shuddered with shameful regret.  He knew the Onna did not judge him based on those past atrocities, but it was hard for even such a rationally logical being such as him to not judge himself.  He knew that he had been a different person back then, incapable of human emotions such as love, the concept of which had first come within his grasp upon meeting Orihime.

                He sighed.  She had been like the dawn rising upon him, gloriously spectacular to someone who had lived lifetimes only ever having known the night.  She was the sun, and to him, born of the darkness, the ability of her light to dispel and banish the shadows in him was nothing short of a miracle.  In the absence of night, the golden rays of her gentle kindness had shone forth, warming the cold ground of his soul, and the first tenuous leaves had begun to burst forth, the beginnings of what was to become a long, strange journey of emotions which he would eventually come to know collectively under the single, understated name of ‘love.’

                He was thankful every day he woke in her arms; thankful for a chance to redeem himself from the monster he had been; thankful for her immeasurable patience with his ignorance of the ways of the world; thankful for her unfathomable grace, to forgive him of such wrongdoing that, at times such as this, still weighed heavily on his shoulders.

                He had been human for a long while now, and though he had become familiar with some of the peculiarities of the accompanying barrage of emotions he experienced now on a day-to-day basis, he had not become adept at expressing them adequately, and he feared he never would.  Old habits die hard, and even after his accidental resurrection by Orihime’s extraordinary abilities one night while she slept, he had still retained that distinctively detached quality which he was so known for.  He was highly intelligent; however, his wisdom extended only into the arenas of pure knowledge and fact.  In the realm of emotions, along with social propriety and human customs, he frequently found himself to be painfully naïve.  The Onna was longsuffering in this; she was forever explaining things in simple terms to him, and he was grateful that her methods never caused him to feel stupid; only very, very appreciative that she was always willing to take the time to clarify the finer points which he was unable to grasp alone.

                In the beginning, he had felt like such a burden to her, at every turn.  Ulquiorra had been so glad for the well-timed offer of employment with Urahara.  Not only had it provided him with a productive way to spend his hours while the Onna was occupied at school during the day, but it allowed him in some small way to help give back to her, even if it was only financially.

                The weight of the thought that he might be a drain on her, combined with past guilt, was at times enough to drag him into a low place that he always had a hard time finding his way back from alone, but from which the Onna always seemed to have a way of summoning him forth from instantly, with a single glance, or the touch of her hand.  Even when he was overcome with emotion, she seemed so often to know instinctively what was troubling him, without his ever needing to speak the words that would not come to him in his moments of deepest turmoil.

                It was to that place of darkness that he now retreated, a lump forming in his throat as he stood in the doorway of their small apartment.  His mind reeled as he struggled to make sense of what was before him.

                There were candles lit, spreading their soft, warm glow around the room.  As he closed the door behind him, his eyes locked on the one, most potent symbol of all his grief and regret: there, spread across the couch, was an Arrancar uniform.  He could not find his breath as he reached a trembling hand out, and drew his fingers across the crisp linen.  A torrent of memories flooded back upon him at the mere touch of that fabric.

                And this was not just _any_ Arrancar uniform…  No.  This was _his_ uniform; his very own, one of the few, identical garments he had owned, and worn every day while he was lived in the Palace of Las Noches, and served as the Fourth Espada in the army of Sosuke Aizen, the traitor, who had declared war against all of Soul Society.

                _Where did this come from?_ Ulquiorra wondered in abject horror.  For a moment, he began to panic, wondering where Orihime was at, if she was ok…  Then his eyes fell upon a small slip of pink paper, pinned to the lapel of the uniform.  In her distinctively familiar handwriting, he read words that turned his blood to ice in his veins.

                _“Put this on, and come find me.”_

He was too shocked to question the words, surrounded in little hearts.  Part of him felt shattered, and he was numbed by the bizarreness of this entire day.  _Why would the Onna have one of my uniforms?_ he wondered.  _And for what purpose?_   He stripped from his work clothes right there in the living room, and pulled on the uniform, the garment hugging his lithe, well-muscled frame with a disconcerting familiarity.

                Their small apartment left little to the imagination at where she might be.  With a glance, he could rule out the kitchen and living room, and with another step he could see into the open bathroom door, so he knew she had to be in their bedroom.  On the floor, as if in confirmation, was a trail of flower petals, leading from the couch to the bedroom door.  He crossed the space in a few more steps, and pressed the door open hesitantly.

                His heart stopped in his chest.

                Orihime had fallen asleep, which was not unusual on the rare days when he got home late.  But it was her choice of attire that gave him such a shock.

                _She kept it.  After all this time…  Why?_

Orihime was wearing her dress, the one she had worn in Hueco Mundo.  The Arrancar uniform she had been issued by Ulquiorra himself when she had arrived; the very same uniform with the torn sleeves that had been damaged by Loly’s jealous rage…  The uniform she had been wearing the moment Ulquiorra had died.

                He was numb.  The candlelight flickered on the walls of the room, and he came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

                “Oh!  I must have fallen asleep!” Orihime murmured with a yawn, roused by the shifting of his weight on the mattress.  She smiled at him, but he could not see her.  He was staring off into nowhere.

                “You look very handsome…”

                A compliment had been the last thing he had been expecting.  He turned to her and was shocked to feel her smearing something on his face.  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand back, inspecting her fingertips.  There was a greenish substance there.

                “It’s just body paint,” she assured him sweetly, showing him the small jar.  She reached over to the night stand and set the jar down, picking up a small hand mirror and holding it up for him to see his reflection in it.

                Two smudgy green lines fan down his cheeks, reminiscent or the Estigma he’d had as an Arrancar.  She smiled brightly at him, but his face was somber.

                “Onna…  Why?” he asked her.

                “Why?” she repeated, seeming genuinely confused.  “Don’t you realize what today is?”

                Ulquiorra closed his eyes and sighed.  “I know the significance of the date, Onna.  But why would you wish to dwell on such a thing?  This is morbid.”

                He silence caused him to look at her.  There was sadness in her eyes.  “Why would I choose to dwell on it?” she repeated after him, and crawled across the bed toward him.  She wrapped her arms around his chest, laying her head affectionately on his shoulder.  “Ulqui-kun, don’t you understand about anniversaries?  It’s the anniversary of when I first went with you to Hueco Mundo.”

                “I know,” he replied, slight irritation creeping into his tone.  “But I do not understand why you would wish to commemorate such a painful moment.”

                Orihime turned his face to look at her, and moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed.  “Painful?  I thought…”

                “You remind me of my past shortcomings, Onna.”

                She looked down in thought.  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said apologetically.  “I kind of thought of it as, like our first date…”  She giggled.  “I guess that’s kind of silly of me, because you had just been ordered to kidnap me…”

                “I _lied_ to you, Onna.  I deceived you, with wrong motive, in service to Aizen.”

                Orihime leaned in and kissed Ulquiorra softly on his lips, then sat back and looked at him quizzically.  “You’re really still worried about that, all this time later?”  He just stared blankly at the floor.  “Ulquiorra, do you realize that if you’d never have followed Aizen’s orders, we would never have gotten to know each other?”

                Ulquiorra’s eyes widened.  He had never thought of it quite that way before.

                “Whatever your motives…  Whatever you did in the past…  You’re a different person now.  Don’t you see that?”  She brought her hand to his cheek, and stroked it tenderly.  “Because I do.”

                “Explain this,” Ulquiorra insisted, tugging at his uniform.  “If I am different, why do you desire to see me this way?”

                Orihime gave a soft smile.  “Because it reminds me that it wasn’t just a dream, and that I’m not dreaming now.  It reminds me how lucky I am to have you, because things could have gone very, very differently.”  She was silent for a moment, lost in thought, then spoke suddenly.  “Do you know why I still have these?”

                “I was wondering that,” he admitted.

                Orihime spread her hands across her thighs, smoothing the skirt of her uniform in a motion which conveyed a strange fondness for the garment.  “When I first went to Hueco Mundo,” she explained, “it was with you, but reluctantly.  And when I came back, it was with my friends…  But still reluctantly, because it was without you.”  The depth of the sadness in her eyes was painful for Ulquiorra to behold.  “I took them.  I found a moment alone, and I snuck into your room, and took one of your uniforms.”  She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling deeply.  “It still sort of smelled like you.  It was the only thing I had to assure me that you were real, and not just a dream.”

                Ulquiorra was shocked.  “I have a…  smell?”

                Orihime gave a soft chuckle, and smiled, biting her lip and nodding.  “You smell like green tea, and wintergreen mint, and the rain.  I was sleeping on your uniform, folded up as a pillow, that first night back, when I accidentally resurrected you.  It must have been your scent that made me dream so vividly.”

                He pondered this for a moment or two.  It certainly seemed to make sense.

                Orihime reached for his hand.  “Whatever your past motives, pure or impure or just under orders…  It all comes out the same.”  She pressed his hand against her chest, smiling shyly.  “We all had to begin somewhere, Ulqui-kun.  It’s not bad to remember where we started from.  It reminds us of how far we’ve come.”

                The corner of his mouth twitched, and he stared off, swallowing hard.  “Only you, Onna…  Could make it so simple, that even I could understand, and not make me feel slighted.”  His emerald eyes pierced her.  “What is it called, this feeling?”

                She brought her palm to his cheek and smiled tenderly.  “It’s love, Ulqui-kun.  That’s love.”

                “Love,” he repeated flatly.  “…The heart?”

                She gave a gentle giggle.  “Yes, ‘the heart.’”  She tucked a strand of ebony back behind his ear.

                “What my eyes cannot see, does not exist,” he stated, taking the both of them back to a moment in the distant past.  Orihime glanced away with a touch of sadness, but Ulquiorra’s hand caught her chin, and lifted it to hold her gaze.  “I can see it,” he whispered.  “It is in your eyes now.  I have seen it over time, spread across innumerable small actions and in choices you have made…”  He leaned in and brushed his lips softly to hers, the pulled back and gazed deeply into her eyes.  “It cannot be known in a single moment.  I never understood that before now.  When I died, in that instant, was but the first glimpse.  It has only grown since then, building upon itself every hour of every day.  I could not see it then, because it is not an object to be observed, as a shell or a stone…  It is more like a thing alive, and must be seen in its process over time, to be known.  It is…  Onna, why do you weep?”  He wiped at the tears streaming freely down her cheeks, concern in his eyes.

                “You can _see_ it,” she choked.  “That’s _it._   What you’re describing…  You can finally _see it_ …”  She buried her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body.

                Ulquiorra pulled her close, encircling her with his arms.  “Please, do not be sad, Onna,” he begged.

                Unexpected laughter spilled from her, and she squeezed him tightly.  “I’m not sad, Ulquiorra.  They’re tears of joy.  I’m so happy right now.”

                “Happiness…”  He sighed in satisfaction against her neck, and as he heard the little whimpering sound she made, electricity skittered through him.  His lips pressed against her and he held her tight, nuzzling with hot breaths against her soft throat.  Orihime whimpered again, her body slackening in his arms.

                “Ulquiorra…” she whispered, her hand resting on his hip as she pressed against him.  In a single swift motion, he laid her back and swung her legs up onto the bed.  Orihime gave a startled cry, but was silenced by his mouth.  His body pressed down on her, and her breath quickened into forced panting around his tongue, which slid along her own and explored her soft, full lips.  His teeth teased at them, nipping lightly, pulling and sucking at those lips as gentle gasps fluttered past them.  His hand tangled in her autumn-colored tresses, and she moaned.  “Ohhh, Ulqui…  Kun…” she sighed breathlessly.  She wound her fingers in his raven-black locks, and pulled gently.

                His response was immediate, a guttural cry of primal pleasure, so quickly swallowed against her heated kiss.  Her other hand twisted in the linen of his uniform, fingernails scraping his back through the soft fabric.  Ulquiorra arched into the clawing pleasure of her touch, hissing a quiet reprimand in her ear, taking her wrists restrictively in his hands and encircling them with stony fingers.  He rolled her to her stomach and straddled the back of her knees, effectively immobilizing her.

                She began to cry out in protest, but a soft chuckle entered her ear canal, followed by a hot, darting tongue, and a murmured assurance.  “I will not hurt you, Onna…”

                Orihime shivered as Ulquiorra swept her long hair to the side and pulled down on the zipper of the uniform’s high collar.  His mouth played across the nape of her neck, and she whined and twitched beneath him, panting feverishly.  He tugged a few more inches, moving his lips to the newly revealed flesh, and was rewarded by a litany of moans.

                Ulquiorra sat up, and kneaded at her shoulders with strong palms.  Orihime gave a deep sigh of relaxation, and melted into the mattress.  “That feels _so good_ , Ulqui-kun,” she moaned into the pillow as he massaged her neck and upper back.  He bore down on her, working out any tension held over from their conversation.

                When he leaned down and began to nuzzle her neck again, his ears picked up on a slow, rhythmic breathing, and he realized she had fallen asleep.  Ulquiorra’s mouth turned up ever-so-slightly at the corners, the smallest flicker of a soft smile teasing there as he felt a glowing warmth spreading in his chest.  He tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, gazing down on her peaceful face, lost in blissful slumber.  A placid tranquility was descending upon him, fuller than anything he had ever known before.

                Ulquiorra reached down to the end of the bed and pulled the blanket up over Orihime’s sleeping form, careful to tuck the covers over her shoulder, bared by the ripped sleeves of her dress.  She gave a sleepy sigh, accompanied by a mellow smile, and shifted slightly, nestling comfortably into Ulquiorra’s warm body.  He laid a tender kiss on her head, settling down beside her and burying his nose in her hair.  He inhaled, and was overcome with the mingled scent of red bean paste, oranges, and somehow…  Warm sunshine.  His eyes closed, and he drifted with her into the restful embrace of gentle comfort, which he had only ever known here, in her arms.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: That’s it for now, everyone. Thank you for reading. I haven’t decided yet if I want to continue this as a multi-chapter fic or not, so if you really want to see the Lemon between them, then maybe follow this, and leave me a comment… And it could encourage me to work some more on it!


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